


Underground

by Schattenriss



Series: The Contours of Shadows [15]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, Male Bonding, POV Dorian Pavus, Rescue Mission, Side Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-23 19:31:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15613389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schattenriss/pseuds/Schattenriss
Summary: Something terrible is stirring deep under the Pavus estate, and now Dorian's amatus, Kai, is trapped by a deadly adversary. It's up to Dorian and Kai's father, Emil to come to the rescue.





	Underground

**Author's Note:**

> This work concerns an untold story from [_Hidden_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12133626), and contains some spoilers for it.

[](https://imgur.com/2PeUvsI)

“You never did tell me, you know.”

That cryptic statement came from my amatus, Kai. Having bid farewell to his family—including his sister Danae, who I’d begun to consider a permanent houseguest—mere days before, we’d finally been enjoying some unaccustomed peace and quiet.  There had been precious little of either that summer, what with traipsing about the countryside _fixing things_ (as Kai is fond of saying) for the Archon, dealing with a houseful of Trevelyans, and finally putting down a monster that had risen from below our own house. After all that excitement, I expected anything thrown at us in Minrathous when we returned for the resumption of my duties as Magister would feel positively restful.

While we were meeting and approving the new staff members that our major-domo Lucien had hired and getting estimates on how much it would cost to repair the gaping hole in the ballroom floor, I was keeping a close eye on Kai, hopefully without his being aware of it. He swore he felt fine, but recent events had taken a lot out of him and it unnerved me. Not that I’d admit that level of concern—I do have a well-crafted attitude of optimistically self-absorbed insouciance to maintain, particularly when it comes to things like confessing I’m terrified of losing him.

But one should not begin tales of high adventure with introspective passages, so I shall return to Kai’s remark.

He uttered it from a chaise lounge on the back patio—the mate to the one I was seated in—and looked at me, dark grey eyes expectant. The evening sun of late summer gave everything a warm, glowing tint as if we had taken up residence inside a painting. 

“Tell you what?” I honestly had no idea.

He set his drink on the small, round, white table next to him, began to answer but was interrupted by a demanding squeak.  Our nug, Swivet, had marched up to the side of the chaise and was trying to climb onto Kai’s lap. Kai pushed him back gently but firmly, saying, “Sorry, but you’re too big and I’m too hot.”

Swivet tried his _cute and lonely_ act, looking up at his beloved master while voicing a forlorn trill. When Kai didn’t relent, the nug made a noise like an unoiled hinge and clumped away to lie on his mat in a shady spot on the patio, sulking. Within a few more minutes he’d be asleep.

Kai shook his head, smiling, then returned his attention to me. “You never told me what happened when you and Father were trying to rescue me in the Black House.”

The Black House was just that—a house buried below our current estate that was, if the painting we’d seen was accurate, black. It had been lurking forgotten beneath generations of Pavuses for five hundred years. We’d only learned of it when that monster I mentioned had opened a passage to it straight through the ballroom floor. As we certainly weren’t about to allow that outrage to go unaddressed, Kai and I, along with his father, Emil, descended into the ancient but remarkably well-preserved domicile to vanquish the monster, rescue the household staff he’d kidnapped, and avenge the ballroom.

It was a simple plan that (naturally) wasn’t so simple to accomplish. When we reached what might be the lair of the ghastly creature—who’d fashioned itself in the form of an ancient and equally ghastly relative of mine—we realized someone would have to go in first…alone. Kai volunteered, with the understanding that Emil and I would fly to the rescue at the first sign of trouble. 

It hadn’t worked out that way.

“Didn’t I? I suppose with all the excitement lately, it slipped my mind.”

“Considering what the two of you looked like when I woke up, I’m still bloody curious.You had _cobwebs_ in your hair.”

“It _is_ a rather exciting tale,” I said. 

“All the more reason to tell me.”

“Very well, amatus.” I paused a few moments to gather my thoughts. Like most rollicking adventure stories, while it was happening it was terrifying and stressful and the very antithesis of fun. I smoothed my moustache (not that it needed smoothing; it’s become something of a habit that doesn’t bother me sufficiently to stop), fortified myself with a sip of very nice Chardonnay I’d brought out with me and cast my mind back to that terrible night.

**_==ß==_ **

Deep underground, buried below the sprawling home I’d grown up in, was another house…

Kai, Emil and I stood before a set of large, wooden doors covered with exquisite carvings of every act of depravity the artist—or their patron—could presumably envision. The person or creature that had invaded our house and kidnapped the servants might very well be behind them, but the only way to know for sure was to check, and we’d ascertained there was no easy way to bypass the doors. Someone had to go through them, likely alerting the intruder to his presence. Kai insisted it be him, and despite my objection, he’d gotten his way. I was not happy about it. 

The monster who was possibly on the other side of those doors had already killed at least three people and appeared to be magically powerful. From what we’d been able to discover, we were pursuing Drusus Caecina Pavus or something pretending to be him. As well as being a magister, Black House’s owner, and an ancient ancestor of mine, he was a sadist and the worst kind of blood mage.  I’m sure back in the day his parties were legendary.

The room in which we were standing had been part of the basement long ago. The basement of Black House had been no mere storage area, but rather the hub of activity for the household of Drusus Pavus. Its attractive parquet flooring and wainscoted walls imbued the space with false warmth that I suspected served him well when visitors who weren’t part of his inner circle of depraved blood mages came nosing about. As I mentioned, the place was remarkably well-preserved and nearly intact, missing only its top floor. For some reason we couldn’t fathom, five hundred years ago they’d buried the entire thing.

“It's decided. I'll be going in first,” Kai said.

Emil looked at him gravely. “Don't go in there expecting your abilities are guaranteed to outstrip this thing's, son. I know you're powerful and talented, but we don't even rightly know what the creature is.”

“Listen to your father, Kai,” I added, keeping my tone light for his sake.

Kai smiled. “I know. I've been forcibly and repeatedly reminded that I'm far from invincible."

“I'm at least putting a tracking spell on you.”

“I'll just be in the next room,” he objected.

“We can't be sure that's where you'll remain, or have you forgotten our precipitous arrival down here already?” I folded my arms across my chest and gave him an _I dare you to stop me_ look.

He didn't, because he may be occasionally fool _hardy_ but he's no fool. I put one tracker on his clothing and one on him. The previous year, I’d found out the hard way that there was no guarantee they'd wind up in the same place.

Kai checked his weapons, arranged his coat more comfortably, drank some water and took a deep breath. "Well. See you soon." 

I pulled him into a rough embrace, murmuring, "Don't you _dare_ get yourself killed, maimed or mindwiped. I absolutely forbid it." 

"I'll do my best," he said, returning the embrace with equal enthusiasm. "Now make sure you can't be seen when I open the door." 

I still didn’t like the idea of his going in there alone, but there was no point in arguing any more. He can be astoundingly stubborn at times. I reluctantly parted from him and joined Emil, who gave him an encouraging nod. We backed out of sight of the doorway. 

Kai stepped up to the right hand door and ceased casting light. The darkness around us was sudden and complete and I switched to the magical spectrum in order to see him. He hesitated a moment, then I heard the click of the handle. The door opened with just a whisper of sound. I thought I caught a glimpse of eerie light, but it could have been my imagination. 

He stepped through.

_=#=_

The door clicked shut behind him, the noise carrying a soft finality I disliked even as I told myself my mind was embellishing. I cast light and Emil and I returned to the spot before the doors.

“He’ll be fine,” Emil said.

For once I had nothing clever to say. I just watched and waited, each minute feeling as though it had stretched its duration by at least double. I listened for any noise in the oppressive silence of that ancient place of death, though I knew there were a myriad of ways to kill silently.

Emil blinked as I refreshed my light spell, but said nothing further. Though he had to be concerned, he looked as placid as a man waiting in line at a bank. It struck me that Kai had inherited his eyebrows. No wonder they were both able to execute a glare that could strip paint.

Another small eternity passed. As a distraction, I tried to calculate how much real time had gone by.

Then the screaming began.

“ _Venhedis,_ that’s Kai,” I said needlessly as we sprinted for the doors. Sadly, I knew that because I’d heard him scream before. 

Emil wrenched the handle to the left hand door, but it didn’t budge. “Locked,” he said, giving a grunt of effort as he tried the other one with more force.

I cast a kinetic spell at the doors that should have shattered them. Instead, it was as if the wood itself absorbed the spell’s energy. I saw with horror that somehow, they’d taken that energy and converted it, a pulse in the magical spectrum telling me I’d just managed to strengthen the wards keeping them shut. I swore in three languages and Emil said, “Let me guess—you can’t magic these damned things open.”

I joined him in front of the doors, trying both handles despite knowing it was fruitless. On the other side, the screaming had stopped. I told myself that was a good thing, because otherwise I wouldn’t be able to keep from panicking.

“We have to find another way in,” Emil said.

“Obviously. What if there isn’t one? These fucking doors aren’t going to budge.” If I’d been thinking about it I may not have said _fucking_ in front of Kai’s father, but those screams had driven thoughts of decorum from my mind.

“There’s another way in. There always is,” he said flatly. “We just have to find it, which we won’t do standing here.”

“Then let’s find it. Since there’s no way forward, I suggest we backtrack.”

We turned away from the doors to return the way we’d come. I thought I heard screaming again, but more distant, and though it warred with every instinct I possessed, I chose to ignore it, instead concentrating on ensuring nothing was overlooked. The back entrance to that room didn’t have to be a door. It could be under a trap door, behind a hidden panel, hiding behind an illusion spell. Despite feeling a tearing urgency, we had to be meticulous. I cast bright light, bathing the corridor in a merciless glare as we searched for the smallest sign of a way past those damnable doors.

We were in a hall lined with well executed paintings of scenery, including one huge rendition of the Black House itself. Even though it was unlikely, we tested each one to see if it would mechanically or magically trigger a secret door, but all that happened was we kicked up a dismaying amount of dust. I wondered aloud if five hundred year old dust could lead to a five hundred year old illness that had since died out.

Emil just made an amused noise. I found that taciturn bent of his difficult to get used to, particularly since I was feeling the need to talk. Talking gave me something to do besides panic. Talking blocked out the sound of those screams. Kai was a powerful mage with years of combat experience. He was tough. It took a lot to make him scream, and we’d promised we’d be there for him. _It should have been me_ was the thought beating persistently in my mind, but I knew if I gave into fear or self-recrimination I’d render myself unable to help Kai. So instead I talked.

I didn’t talk about important things. I certainly didn’t talk about Kai, or what he meant to me, or the things we’d been through together.  I let clever, glib Dorian take over to make pithy observations as we searched. It was easy to slip back into that persona—I’d spent many years being that Dorian nearly exclusively. (Not that I’m not clever and glib normally, because I certainly am, but the intent makes all the difference.)

Emil said very little until we checked the floor for pressable panels in the parquet floor. “Did you ever consider the origins of parquet floors?” he suddenly asked.

“Aside from a carpenter being involved? I can’t say I have.”

“I always fancied the first parquet floor was made by someone who had far too many bits of different types of wood, but not enough of any one kind left to construct an entire floor.”

“It may have been someone who simply enjoys fitting puzzles together,” I suggested.

He blinked and gave me a funny little smile. “It may well have been. I hadn’t considered that.”

We passed from the portrait hall into the reading room of the house’s library, which I had to admit was a marvellous thing despite the character of the monster who inhabited the place. All the padded benches around the perimeter were firmly attached to the wall, and the intricate mosaic of a Qarinus sunset that took up most of the floor didn’t reveal a secret panel no matter how many tiles we pressed. It was maddening how long everything was taking, yet we didn’t dare overlook anything.

I unwarded the doors to the library and we stepped through, trading looks of dismay. The library was wonderful, yes, but part of its wonder was its size. I said, “Kaffas.”

“If that means anything like shite, I agree,” Emil said. “This could be a dangerous waste of time. Isn’t there some magical shortcut you could take?”

“Believe me, I’ve been trying to think of one,” I confessed. “Everything’s sat untouched for so long there are no traces of heavier traffic to follow, and there’s ambient magic throughout the library.”

“Preservation spells?” he asked.

“That and some of the magical tomes have auras of their own.  It muddies the entire magical spectrum in here so picking out something like a doorway becomes impossible. Like trying to hear one altruistic statement in a room full of chattering Orlesian nobles.”

Emil gave an amused snort and glared around the vast room with its corridors made of high wooden shelves, all of them filled with books. “Well, let’s think for a moment. We’re assuming whatever room’s beyond those doors has another entrance. Why would it?”

As I’d been trained to do since my magic manifested in childhood, I pushed my emotions to a space in the back of my mind and focused. “Double doors of that size suggest a room to match. Rooms of that size are normally where functions are held. If you’re holding a function—even the sort of depraved blood fest our monstrous friend likely preferred—you need to take things in and out in such a way that the guests don’t notice you.”

“Things?”

“You know, snack trays, party favours, dead bodies, new victims. Everything that makes a party a party.”

He stroked his close-cropped beard in a manner that suggested he practiced that as his _thinking_ pose until it became second nature. “My thought exactly. Now, if you were a service entrance, would you be in a library?”

“No. But I might be in the back on the other side of those blasted doors.”

“Damn. That’s true. But we don’t know where that room was in relation to the rest of the house. We _do_ know that the Well Room and his murder rooms were on _this_ side.”

The Well Room was another vast space we’d traversed in our search for the monster. We called it that because the dramatically black basalt floor was filled with deep, narrow wells, all of them covered with sturdy wooden trap doors.  We’d assumed after five hundred years buried, nothing would have survived. That was until we’d approached one and heard movement and a guttural noise from below. No one wanted to meet whatever might be down there. 

The murder rooms were just that—spaces with heavily sealed doors where the former owner and his friends could torture and kill people at their leisure, and they’d had a great deal of leisure time given the impressions Kai and I had picked up from the one in which we’d had the misfortune to spend some time.

I frowned. “So we’re back to them having a _secret_ service entrance on this side.”

Emil’s expression brightened as his blue-grey eyes met mine. “But not in the library! Whether it be fresh victims, or expired ones to feed the things in the wells, the library is the last place you’d bring them. There are too many valuable pieces here to risk having blood or other matter spraying about.”

“Emil, I do believe you’re right.” I felt a wash of relief that didn’t remove my underlying anxiety. “For all we know some of the more exotic items in here _consume_ blood. Skip the library, then?”

As an answer, he strode forward. I caught up and we crossed through and out into the wainscoted corridor beyond. There were four bedrooms that needed searching, all of them decorated with the most ghastly display of bad taste. It was a dire symphony of clashing colours and frowsy patterns of flowers interspersed with poorly rendered paintings of insipid, fat-faced children with expressions of dull evil on their rosy-cheeked faces.  There were no trap doors, no secret spaces behind sliding walls, just time-wasting, oddly well preserved, hideously patterned carpets to lift.

I told myself if Kai was dead, I’d know it. I’d feel it, because the spirits of death I worked with as a Necromancer knew him. They would alert me if he entered their sphere of existence. _If they could_ , my mind amended. The creature Kai was likely confronting—the one that had made him scream—had already badly frightened my death spirits, and caused our simple, bound household spirits to flee. It was they that told me whatever the creature was, it wasn’t remotely human.

We left the last guest room and trudged down the corridor. Though I didn’t see how it could be true, Emil exuded calm as he studied the walls, a slim, black-haired man in borrowed armour who looked twenty years younger than his actual age. I switched my own search to the magical spectrum and to my surprise, saw something.

“Emil. End of the corridor to our right. There’s an illusion spell that’s fraying at the edges and it’s suspiciously door-shaped.”

“Andraste’s tits, it’s about time. I was beginning to picture us having to look down each individual well next. You’ll have to show me where,” he said, stepping to the side so I could take the lead.

I approached the spot, and up close it was even more evident that the spell was on its last gasp. The fact that it had lasted all those centuries was itself phenomenal, though I suspected the powerful preservation spells throughout the buried house had a great deal to do with it. Not for the first time that night, I wondered why they’d gone to the trouble of casting all those spells on a place they were burying for eternity.

Reaching through the illusion, I grasped the door handle and pulled. It resisted, but I had neither time nor inclination to pick the lock, instead snapping it with a force spell. The door swung open with an arthritic creak.

“Am I to take it you just opened the door? From here it looks like you stuck your arm through the wall,” Emil said.

“It’s open.  If you’re concerned about walking through what appears to be a wall, I recommend closing your eyes.”

“And miss a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to walk through a wall?” Emil said, lifting his eyebrow in the same way Kai does. “Lead the way.”

As we entered I cast light, revealing a long, rectangular room with shelving down the right side and a line of empty hooks along the left. The shelving held what appeared to be mouldering linens. At the very back was a large, square trap door, with brackets on either side holding a heavy metal bar in place.

“Is it just me, or does that look designed to keep things down below from coming up?” Emil asked.

“There was a time a few hours ago when I’d have said nothing down here could possibly be alive. Now I’ll just point out that we’re forewarned and well-armed and nothing creeping about below is going to keep me from reaching Kai.”

“An admirable sentiment,” Emil said. “Is this bar magicked in place or can we move it with brute strength?”

I checked for wards and bindings. “It looks as if brutishness will suffice. If there is a lurker at the threshold, I’ll be prepared to give it a face full of fireball.”

“Then let’s get this damn thing open and find my son.” It was the first time he’d let his worry show since Kai had walked through those doors, and it made me feel marginally better.

We slid the bar out of its brackets and pulled up the trap door. A blast of stale air smote us and dissipated. A flight of stairs led down into darkness. I sent a fireball hurtling into the gloom just in case there _was_ something waiting, or perhaps something that would cause the air to ignite, but nothing screamed or burst into flame. I walked cautiously down the steps, Emil close behind. There were fifteen of them, steep and stony, though someone had coated them with a rubbery substance that provided extra traction.

At the bottom, I cast light again, and sent a further globe of light down the low-ceilinged corridor that stretched before us. It was all rough-hewn stone, and nothing reacted to my light. “It leads in the right direction,” I said. “Let’s go get Kai.”

I gripped my staff more firmly as Emil checked his duelling sword and readied the handheld crossbow he’d borrowed from Kai (who’d hardened and spelled the little weapon until it became an instrument of devastating power). We proceeded down the passage as quickly as caution allowed. The air smelled of stone and neglect, with a wilder, ranker odour floating beneath. I wondered at that last, and knew to the core of my being that, were he with us, Kai would be sourly predicting the odour signalled the presence of giant spiders.

“Do you think we’re assuming too much, thinking this will come out on the other side of the doors?” Emil said quietly.

“It will. If it seems that it isn’t leading that way, perhaps I’ll take a page from our intruder’s book and blow a passage into the place.”

“You can do that?”

“Within reason.” I’d never had to do such a thing, but I was fairly confident I could.

“Then why didn’t you just blow the damn doors open?” he asked reasonably. 

“While you were trying the locks, I attempted that very thing. They’ve been protected and warded against just such an attack—all my spell did was strengthen the damned protections. Considering some of the things they got up to here, I can’t say I’m surprised, but it means I could throw spells at the doors and the walls holding them until next Tuesday without doing much more than dulling their finish. Or not. For all I know, repeated attacks will trigger a polishing spell just to be spiteful.” 

Emil made a non-committal noise, then some moments later said, “So the fact that your ancestors were mages who put effective magical protections on the doors negates your advantage as a mage who could normally turn them into toothpicks. You’re in the same position as a non-magical man in front of a non-magical door.”

“Well…yes,” I had to admit.  _“Venhedis!_ ”

I wasn’t swearing due to Emil’s revelation. We’d rounded a bend in the corridor to find a cave-in so perfect I suspected it had been deliberate. I cast a brighter light and Emil pointed silently to our left. There was a fissure in the wall that looked as if it had been widened just enough to allow a person through.

I dimmed my light and moved close to Emil, casting a muffling spell as I said, “One gets the feeling someone wishes us to explore this new and exciting route. I’m going to trigger the tracking spells I put on Kai. It will keep us going the correct direction in the event there’s more than one path.”

“You’re not worried whatever’s behind those doors will notice?”

“I’m willing to take that chance. They’re barely noticeable if you’re not watching for them, and time is of the essence.”

He nodded. “I assume you want to take point?”

“No offense, but I do have a bigger arsenal at my disposal.”

“None taken. Shall we see if our unsubtle herders are still lying in wait for wayward adventurers?”

“I’d hate to disappoint after they went to all that trouble. I wonder if giant spiders living in an enclosed, highly magical environment might have developed sentience.” I led the way through the fissure, staff at the ready.

“Giant spiders?” Emil echoed.

I smiled. “Kai’s nemesis. He abhors them, so naturally we’ve run across them with alarming regularity.”

“That is one experience I’d be just as glad not to share with you.”

The fissure had opened into a slightly wider tunnel that twisted and turned, weaving its way through the bedrock under my family’s estate. I found it more unsettling than I cared to admit, to think all this had been below us for generations.  We reached a wider spot and the tunnel branched, giving us three possible choices. I turned my attention to my tracking spells. Emil waited quietly.

“I’m…not sure what this means, but he seems to have been separated from at least some of his clothing. I’m getting two reads, but they’re very close to one another, and they’re that way.”  I pointed and Emil frowned.

“I don’t suppose you could divine which of those two passages is the one we want.”

“Divination is notoriously unreliable when it comes to plotting routes.  It’s all well and good to be told all roads lead to wisdom, but sometimes you just need to know which roads are intact and lead to that quaint little village where you were told to meet Uncle Salmoneus. I’ll just have a peek, shall I?” 

“If you have a peek, does that mean I’ll be standing here in the dark?” 

Just for a moment I stared at him blankly. It had utterly slipped my mind that Emil had no way of making his own light without carrying the appropriate instruments with him. “I can cast a light that will last some minutes. I promise I won’t be gone long.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you mean you _hope_ you won’t be gone long? You don’t know what’s down there.”

“If there’s even a hint of trouble, I’ll return. We’re here to save Kai, not explore.” I paused, feeling there was more I should say. “I’m sorry. The hazards of spending most of one’s time with other mages, I’m afraid.”

He gave me a thin smile. “Considering the other mage you spend the most time with is Kai, I suppose I can’t complain. I’d appreciate if you’d make it back before your light dies, though. Not a big fan of sensory deprivation.”

“You’ll barely have time to miss my scintillating conversation.” I cast light for Emil, sacrificing intensity for duration, then  stepped cautiously into the rightmost passage. It was the narrowest of the two, the ceiling low enough that I had to duck frequently, and while I’m not short, neither am I a tall man. The floor began sloping downward, which was not the direction we needed to go. I pushed on a trifle farther just in case I was jumping to conclusions.  The deeper I got, the more the atmosphere was developing a dank, unpleasant scent unlike any I’d smelled before, and I’ve traversed far more underground caverns and catacombs with their myriad underground odours than I care to mention.

Suddenly my joke about giant, sentient spiders seemed far less humorous.

The floor was no longer just stone—it was a mix of dirt and rocks, and was becoming increasingly moist. That was the final straw. Not only was it looking as if I was going to encounter some undoubtedly ghastly body of water soon, but the tacky soil was going to stick in the treads of my boots if this kept up. 

I turned to go back and felt someone or some _thing_ grasp one of the straps on my armour and yank me back and to the left. I swore as I nearly lost my footing and cast a panicky fireball before I realized what had truly happened. The strap had merely snagged on a jutting spur of rock. I breathed a sigh of relief that there was no creature…and that Emil hadn’t seen me give into my nerves like that. I returned to the junction and reported the unsuitability of the right hand passage.

“I’ve been watching the other two while you were exploring. I’m not convinced we’re alone down here,” Emil said quietly.

“Are we talking balefully glowing eyes in the dark?”

“Not yet. I’m quite sure I heard noises that were distinctly furtive.”

“They couldn’t have been me? Sometimes sound carries oddly underground.”

“I don’t think so. I say if we see glowing eyes, we shoot first and ask questions later.”

“Agreed. There is nothing down here I want to open diplomatic relations with.”  I cast light again and led the way into the centre passageway.  It was more regular in dimension that the previous one—wide enough that we could walk side by side. The ceiling was arched, and just high enough in the centre that we didn’t need to duck. The floor was smooth and even; I could see damp patches here and there and wondered if they were cause for concern.

I checked my tracking spells and was somewhat relieved to find there’d been no appreciable movement of either. I ignored the niggling, panicky part of my mind that immediately informed me that could be because he was horribly incapacitated.

“Ever feel like you’re being watched?” Emil murmured.

“Frequently,” I replied. I wondered if he was truly sensing something or if it was just the oppressiveness of the tunnel he was reacting to. We followed a bend that was still taking us in the correct direction. Even with the width of the corridor, I’d placed myself ahead of Emil. Therefore he wasn’t affected when, for the second time that day, the floor went out from under me.

I didn’t fall far, but I’d been caught unawares, so rather than land with an elegant flourish, I went sprawling, my staff clattering to the ground next to me. I only just avoided getting struck in the face by the pointed embellishments at the top of it. The fall knocked the air out of me and disrupted the light I’d been casting. As a result, I not only plunged into uncertain depths, but inadvertently plunged us into darkness.

Emil called, “Dorian?”

I stood carefully as I checked for injuries, needing a moment before I could reply, “Pit! Stay where you are!” Recasting light, I set it high enough that Emil should have the benefit of it too and studied the trap I’d fallen into. The pit was filled with cobwebs—most of which seemed to have transferred themselves onto me—but no living things. There were no further traps I could see and the walls only stretched about half a body length above my head.

Emil appeared above me, peering over the edge of the pit. “Are you all right?”

“Aside from rolling in cobwebs and grievously injuring my dignity, I’m intact.”

He smiled faintly. “Need a hand, or can you float up?”

“Alas, I missed the section on floating, hovering and creative buoyancy.”

“Not necromantic enough?”

That surprised a laugh out of me. “It is difficult to create the impression of appropriate gravitas when one’s bobbing about like a cork on water, yes. That sort of levity is frowned upon.”

He groaned at my clever plays on words as he reached into the pit. I passed my staff up first, then jumped, grasped his hand, and with his help, hauled myself out. My right knee gave a twinge of pain as I got to my feet and I cast a quick healing spell on it. “I’m sure I‘ll discover bruises tomorrow. I don’t even see a cheap illusion spell on this. How did I miss it?”

“I didn’t see, but obviously someone camouflaged it. At least they didn’t put sharp sticks or some other implement of puncturing down there.”

“Implement of puncturing?” I refreshed the light, searching for whatever had hidden the pit. 

“My apologies. An attempt to find a more elegant way to say pointy things.”

There were times it was evident where Kai had gotten his sense of humour. “I’m just as glad that adding pointy things didn’t occur to them.”

“Or they couldn’t find any. What do you suppose they eat?”

“I’m sure we’d rather not know.” Across the gap, the corridor continued on the other side, though it appeared to take a sharp bend right at the edge of the area my light spell was illuminating. “If there is someone down here, why would they choose to live in these tunnels rather than the house?”

“Conditioned to avoid it back when torture and murder were daily activities?” Emil theorized. “You realize we’re saying something is still living down here now. What do you think—can we jump over this thing or do we need to make a bridge of some sort?”

“Now _that_ is something magic can help with!” I explained that I could provide a bit of a kinetic push to ensure we made it across the gap, which was just wide enough to make an unassisted jump a little dicey.  

I thought Emil might be reluctant because he’d been uncomfortable with things magical, but he just nodded and said, “Let’s do it.” I must have looked surprised, because he continued, “Kai’s in trouble. I may not be entirely comfortable with magic, but I know you want to get to him as badly as I do.”

He gave himself a running start and as he jumped, I cast a force spell to boost him a fraction higher and faster. He landed on the other side with a grunt, but managed to keep his footing.

I secured my staff in its harness and was preparing for my own jump when Emil gave a shout of pain and surprise. Something humanoid was attacking him from behind. In the fading light of my last spell, I couldn’t make out exactly what—I just got the impression of a pale creature with claws, making guttural, slavering noises as it slashed at Emil’s back. He twisted away from it, reaching for his sword.  At those close quarters I wasn’t sure how useful the duelling weapon would be, but it was hardly the time to discuss its relative virtues.

Emil was close enough to the thing that I didn’t want to chance a spell with too wide an area effect, so I cast a narrow freezing spell at the creature. It wouldn’t actually freeze solid, unfortunately, but the cold would slow the thing down and give me a chance to join the fray. As the spell hit, a rime of thick frost coated Emil’s attacker from head to foot and stopped it in its tracks. Emil elbowed it hard in the ribs and sprinted away, putting some distance between them before finally loosing his weapon from its scabbard.

Feeling quite heroic, I leapt across the yawning chasm just in time to nearly get skewered by Emil’s sword. He backed up to give me some space as the creature began to shake off the effects of the freezing spell. I cast light and it hissed, swiping at us then scuttling away to a corner where it crouched long enough for us to get a look at it.

It was difficult to guess the height of the creature, hunched over as it was.  I estimated it was at least the size of a short man. Its skin was pale and pasty over a body ropy with muscle, though it had what appeared to be the beginnings of a pot belly.  The arms and hands were elongated, the fingers long and knobbly.  Its legs were muscular and bowed. Both hands and bare feet were armed with sharp, dense, clawlike nails.  Its skull was thick, facial features brutish, its ears small and pointed. It looked rather like a human/canine hybrid, the nose and mouth pronounced enough to resemble a short snout.  Its teeth were yellowed and jagged (I can say that with authority because it was snarling at us), and the eyes were small and pale, sunken deeply in their orbits.

It tensed in a manner suggesting it was readying itself to spring, so—now that Emil wasn’t in the way—I let loose with a bolt of lightning that should have dropped it like a bag of rocks. Instead the blasted creature roared and sprang, claws raking towards my face and neck. I threw up a barrier the moment after I’d loosed the lightning spell, so it didn’t manage to tear my throat out, but it did knock me to the ground. I landed painfully on the staff still uselessly strapped in its harness on my back.

I cast a stream of fire at its face as it lunged at me and had the pleasure of seeing it howl and flinch back (its breath was ghastly), but again it was oddly resistant to spells that should have killed it. It landed on me and lunged at my throat again as I threw up another barrier, then spasmed and dropped, rolling to one side, a crossbow bolt sticking out of its face. A moment later it gave a last, guttural howl as the bolt in its head burst into white-hot flame.

I scrambled back and to my feet, thinking I’d have to remember to tell Kai his fire-spelled bolts were a resounding success. _If he’s still alive…_

I pushed that thought away. He was alive. My death spirits didn’t sense him, so he was alive.

Emil was standing over the creature, studying it as if it was a lab specimen. He seemed unbothered by the cooked meat smell emanating from its head. “Do you suppose these are the things being held in the wells?” he said conversationally.

“At this moment I find myself remarkably uninterested. I just hope there aren’t more of them between us and Kai. We should have been there by now.”

He gave a curt nod. “Bloody right we should. Let’s find him. Is your tracking spell still working?”

I checked. “Like a charm. We’re going the right way. Did that thing manage to do any damage?”

He frowned slightly. “Now that you mention it, would you mind having a look at my back? I think it may have gotten through somewhere up around my right shoulder.”

I looked, and sure enough, there was a good-sized tear in the lightly armoured jacket that continued through his “adventuring coat” as he called it (it was green, which would normally make me shudder, but the green was deep and rich and looked good on him). I pulled the rip open more to see the creature had managed to inflict a deep, bloody gouge and several scratches in his shoulder. I cleaned the wound as best I could and cast a healing spell. Given I’m not a natural healer, it didn’t disappear, but the wound did close.

I pictured Kai muttering dire things about light armour. Ever since some of his had failed and nearly gotten him killed, he’d understandably viewed it with a level of contempt. “You’ll now be able to show people the battle scar you received from an authentic cave-dwelling monster,” I told Emil.

“But with no way to document it, I’ll be met with amused disbelief,” he said with cheerful gloom, “cave-dwelling monsters being in remarkably short supply in the better parts of Ostwick.”

“If that one was any indication, they’re resistant to magic.” I said.

“But not immune.”

“No, definitely not.  But the first few spells I hit it with should have turned it to library paste, not merely made it angry. It could be living around the ambient magic of this place has made them resistant.”

“Your spells and the crossbow combined did the trick.” Emil had sheathed his sword,  but the crossbow was at the ready. “Hopefully any others will note the fate of their friend and leave us be. Kai’s waiting.”

With a final glance at the man-beast, we continued down the corridor, rounding the corner’s right turn with caution. Emil had another bolt loaded in the crossbow and I had my staff in hand. I cast a dim, diffuse light that would make it possible to see quite a way down the corridor without drawing undue attention to ourselves, and a further spell to muffle the sound of our footsteps.

The floor was taking a distinctly upward angle, which we found encouraging. Twice there were doorless doorways opening into empty rooms at the sides of the corridor. “It can’t be far now,” I predicted. “People are notoriously lazy. They put storage rooms as close to the place for which they’re storing things as possible.”

It appeared we were reaching the end of the corridor. There was a fork ahead, with the main hall going straight and another taking a slight bend to the left. I was debating which was more likely to lead to our goal when Emil murmured, “Dorian, hold a moment. Look at the edge of the left hand corridor.”

I did as he asked, and for several moments saw nothing. I was about to say so when a slight movement caught my eye. The light was dim, but I dared not cast anything brighter. So I squinted into the gloom, thinking wistfully about the tales of mages with spells to give themselves dark vision. I would gladly have traded a less useful spell for that one, had it existed.  A few more moments and I saw it again—the sort of movement things make when they’re holding still but can’t help fidgeting. I concentrated and saw the outline of the same elongated, ropily muscular arm and hand the creature that had attacked Emil had. It shifted again, and the glimpse we got of its head was more than enough confirmation.

“Do we give it the opportunity to just leave?” I said quietly.

“If it stays out of our way, I’ve no desire to waste time fighting it,” he replied. We walked steadily forward, my muffling spell in place. When we were no more than five paces from it, the universe exercised its dubious sense of humour at our expense. The creature noticed us and—rather than sensibly retreat into the dark labyrinth it called home—gave a mad, silent snarl and charged us.

That paled in importance to the other thing: the screams began again, distant but perfectly audible. I had the horrible thought that the monster behind those doors had been torturing my amatus the entire time we’d been trudging through that damned sub-basement. Urgency gave me extra incentive to end the encounter quickly. I cast a narrow, powerful kinetic spell at the creature, knocking it sprawling backwards. I followed that spell up with a binding spell to hold it in place, and a time delayed spell to finish it off. 

“We need to get past that thing quickly,” I told Emil. “Feel like a bracing run?”

“I hear him screaming,” he said flatly. “You need me to shoot the thing?”

“It’s taken care of.” We broke into a run and I cast a bright light in case there were other creatures or just uneven bits of floor that would undoubtedly trip us if given half a chance. As we pounded toward a sturdy wooden door at the end of the main corridor, a very…wet-sounding explosion thudded behind us. Emil raised an eyebrow at me.

“The spell’s commonly known as _walking bomb,_ ” I explained. “Even if they’re not walking, they do explode.”

“Ah. Sounds effective but messy,” he observed accurately. “Now, if this door is locked, can you blow _it_ open?”

“I’ll turn it into splinters if need be.”

“I find myself having to admit magic has its uses,” he said with a faint smile.

Fortunately for the door, there was no need. It was barred, but from our side. We removed it and charged up the stairs to another, flimsier door. I blew it off its hinges, not caring if we were noticed. We emerged in a vast room that could have been a ballroom or a receiving hall. I thought the latter, given the veilfire torches. They were mounted on parallel lines of pillars placed about fifteen feet apart to create a corridor bathed in shifting, green-tinted light down the centre of the room.  A more conventional spell illuminated a good third of the room closest to the doors, spotlighting a dreadful tableau.

Kai was lying on the floor past the left side pillars, not wearing his beloved leather coat or his boots and gear. He was no longer screaming—in fact he didn’t appear to be conscious—but his body was twitching with what looked like small seizures. I thought, _Please, not again._ I may even have said it out loud.

There was a round dais at the centre near the front—three low, shallow steps climbed to a wide base on which a throne stood. The monster we’d been searching for was at the bottom of the dais…in two places. Its head—severed and burnt—was deeper into the room and off to one side. Its mage-robe-clad body was on its hands and knees, crawling crablike toward it. The lack of a head wasn’t stopping the creature from casting a spell so powerful I could actually feel its nature. It was an agony spell the likes of which I’d never seen or experienced, and it was killing Kai.

I was on the verge of panic as I tried to think what spell might stop something that could be decapitated and burnt and still carry on as if it was only mildly inconvenienced. Fortunately for us all, Emil had insisted on accompanying us. Now, evincing that same practical streak he’d passed on to his son, he simply jogged up to the head and—as if he was playing a schoolyard game—kicked it with all his might.

The head hurtled across the room, hitting the wall with an audible _thwack_ , and the spell ceased. The body was still trying to make its way to its now distant head, but I barely gave it a glance. Kai was still seizing. Emil and I reached him at the same time. I cast a healing spell, unsure if it would be of any help, and held his good hand, telling him _we’re here, it will be all right now_ though I knew it was unlikely he heard me.

“We have to get him out of here,” Emil said, still being practical. “We can come back and kill that thing once we know he’s okay.  I suggest one of those empty rooms down below—with any luck, that thing doesn’t even know they exist. ”

I nodded, relieved to see Kai had stopped seizing and appeared to be breathing normally, and pointed to the neat stack of his coat, boots and gear just a few paces away. “Looks like he was on his way to them. Make sure we bring them—he’ll never forgive us if we leave The Coat.”

Emil chuckled and said, “Can you shed more proper light on things? That green light from the torches is cursed hard to see by and we need to keep a watch on your relative’s progress towards retrieving its head.” He paused as I cast light, surveying the other side of the room with a look of faint interest. “I think we’ve found your servants. They seem to have lost their clothes.”

“We don’t know for sure that that’s Drusus Pavus,” I said, following the line of his gaze. A door on the other side of the room had been blown off its hinges—I suspected that was Kai’s doing—and the household servants were trickling out. The mystery of how Kai’s clothes came to be separated from the rest of him had been partially solved; I now wondered how he’d managed to get most of them back.

“Dominus Dorian?” A tall, skinny shape split from the group of survivors. It was Lucien, though it had taken me a moment as I’d never heard his voice sound so haggard. He was trying to keep himself covered with his hands as he approached, his expression simultaneously relieved and mortified. “Kai said you were here. Is he..?”

“I think he’s going to be all right. That thing was trying to kill him, though. I’ve never seen an agony spell that powerful.”

“One of them killed someone already,” Lucien said darkly. “Girart, the cook’s helper. I think his heart gave out. That-that _creature_ used them on all of us. Not even Kai could combat them—he told me so. We should kill that monster. Now.”

“No, we should get Kai to safety.  Once we’ve done that, we’ll kill the thing,” I said in tones that would brook no argument.

“But—” Lucien saw that I wasn’t going to budge, glanced at Emil to find the same resolve there. “Of course. I understand. Before we do that, would it be possible for me to borrow a few garments?”

Lucien was tall, angular and surprisingly hirsute (I had never seen the man less than fully and impeccably dressed, even on his days off). To literally top it off, his hair, which he normally kept combed straight back, was sticking up and out in wispy, haphazard tufts.  I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a man look more unhappily discomfited. 

Emil said, “Let’s get my son somewhere safe then we’ll see to that. If you could take his things?”

Lucien moved to do that while Emil and I carefully picked up Kai (I grasped him under his arms while Emil took his legs). We glanced to see what progress the creature was making, and were pleased to see the body lurching in the wrong direction. I wondered if the fact that the head had landed with its eyes facing the wall had anything to do with that.

Rather than the main doors, we made our way back to the service entrance and down to one of the empty rooms we had passed. Lucien’s nose wrinkled with distaste as we passed the exploded remains of the underground creature by the last room. I suppose I can’t blame him, as it had made quite a mess and he had no footwear.

I cast light and we set Kai down gently in a safe corner of the low-ceilinged room, using his folded leather coat as a makeshift pillow. It worried me that he still hadn’t stirred. “Lucien? You said you had experience with the spell that thing was casting. Is this normal? Should I be worried?”

“From what I saw and experienced, he should be all right, though the aftereffects can be difficult. Um, Dominus? You said you might help with some garments?”

“Of course, Lucien. I’m sorry. What do you mean ‘difficult’?” I removed my armoured jacket in order to take off my overshirt as he answered.

“It’s…rather difficult to describe. It’s…not easy to concentrate. One’s thoughts and emotions get easily jumbled. It wears off, but the spells aren’t just physically taxing. Thank you.” He wrapped my shirt around his hips as a makeshift loincloth. It was a lovely shade of blue and looked oddly festive.

Emil had discarded his chest armour as well, shrugging out of that deep green coat of his. He passed it to Lucien, saying, “You need more than that, old man. My adventuring coat should make things a touch more comfortable.”

“Thank you, Bann Trevelyan.” Lucien looked almost pathetically grateful as he pulled it on. “My lords, I normally wouldn’t be so forward, but we _must_ kill that creature. The sooner the better. Dominus Kai will be fine, so—”

“Lucien. If you honestly think we’re moving from this room, I’ll assume that your ordeal has driven you mad,” I said flatly.

He looked like he wanted to argue, but didn’t. “I…apologize, Dominus. I meant no offense.”

“It’s been a long night for everyone,” Emil said, sitting against a wall where he could keep an eye on Kai.

I sat next to Kai, my back propped against the wall, and wondered how many hours it had been since I last sat. “You’re handling all this awfully well,” I said to Emil.

“I usually do handle crises well. It’s the little things that aggravate me no end,” he replied.

“He’s very like that too.” I squeezed Kai’s shoulder and was gratified to hear him make a soft noise and shift ever so slightly under my hand. “And not just in combat. I’ve seen him stare down world leaders and make dangerous decisions without a moment’s worry because he felt they would work. But if it appears we’re about to run out of coffee..."

Emil gave me a crooked smile. “Well one can hardly call that misplaced priorities. From what I’ve seen, he runs on the stuff.” As I made a noise of agreement, his blue-grey eyes were looking me up and down, his mien thoughtful. 

I waited for him to speak, distracting myself by checking on Kai. He was looking more himself all the time, and the relief I was feeling surprised even me. Emil still hadn’t spoken—indeed, he looked half asleep—and I concluded chances were he had no intention of sharing whatever he was thinking.

For several minutes we sat in silence. Kai’s colour (heh-such as it is with his fair complexion) was back, but I didn’t want to wake him before he was ready. Here and there I refreshed the light spell. Finally, I stood and stretched, having had enough of the unforgiving floor.

Poor Lucien had propped himself in the far corner and was glaring at the wall opposite him, though I was quite sure the true objects of his glare were myself and Emil. Annoyed at his annoyance when our reasons for delaying were obvious, I requested that he cast light for a while.

As Lucien cast, Emil said, “So Lucien’s a mage too. Tell me—in the course of an average day, do you interact with anyone who _isn’t_ a mage other than servants?”

His question actually gave me pause, because it wasn’t something I’d really thought about. I smoothed my moustache and finally said, “I’m sure I’m going to sound like the worst sort of snob, but at times there are weeks that go by where I don’t interact with any non-mages aside from servants. It’s nothing deliberate, I assure you.”

“Hm. It must seem to the two of you that there are far more mages in the world than is truly the case.”

Something else I’d been aware of, but not really thought about. “I imagine that’s so,” I admitted.  “But is it any different for you? You spend most of your time around the noble classes in Ostwick, I’ll wager.”

He stroked his beard and said, “A fair point. You keep making those. It’s wreaking havoc with my prejudices.”

Lucien made an impatient noise. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but honestly, that monster is still just above us. We need to go back while it's vulnerable!”

I stared at him and said flatly, “We're not going anywhere until I know he's okay.”

“Damned right,” Emil added.

“I would normally never argue with you, but I've seen this before. He's going to be fine. That-that _thing_ is going to heal itself in no time,” Lucien persisted.

I was beginning to get truly annoyed. “I'll not brook any more argument. We stay here until Kai's awake and sufficiently recovered to tell us if he's okay or not.”

“How do you kill a thing that can survive having its head cut off?” Emil asked.

“I would think cutting it into very small bits and burning them all might be fairly effective,” I suggested.

“You could just end up with a very angry cloud of sentient smoke."

I snort-laughed. “Then we could stick it in a sealed glass jar and let it think about what it's done.”

Lucien shook his head slowly. “I have never understood how people can joke in circumstances like this.” 

I looked him in the eyes. “We can because it's a better alternative than screaming.” 

Lucien looked away and said nothing further.

I went back over to check on Kai, and only barely contained a happy exclamation when I saw his eyes were open. “I think he’s awake,” I told Emil. Keeping my voice calm and pleasant, I leaned over Kai and said, “Amatus? Are you back with us?”

He only said, “Mm hm,” but that coupled with the awareness in his eyes was enough. The wave of relief that washed through me was nearly overwhelming—a part of me had been all but convinced that this time our luck would finally run out and the damage would be irreversible. Never have I been so happy to be wrong. 

Yes, we still had a monster to kill, but we’d reached my amatus in time; he was going to be all right.

**_==ß==_ **

“And you know the rest,” I finished.

Kai nodded, looking thoughtful. He was silent so long I was about to accuse him of turning into his father when he finally said, “How many of them do you suppose there are?”

“How many which?”

“Those creatures you fought in the tunnels. How did they end up down there, and how long ago? Are they some indigenous species we weren’t aware of or…”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re going to say something ghastly, aren’t you? You’ve got that look.”

He gave a faint smirk. “Well, I’m thinking they’re either escapees from those wells as you theorized or…what if they’re descendants of party guests? Lucien said some of his more ardent and decadent followers were there for months, possibly longer. With all the blood magic flying about along with maker knows what other drugs—anyone for blood-infused lyrium, for instance?—perhaps they began to change over time. What if it wasn’t just Drusus that was buried in that place, but the others that were deemed too far gone to be allowed to leave? What if they’d already begun to mutate and escaped into the tunnels?”

His scenario was ghastly but all too plausible. I added, “Since Drusus wouldn’t have partaken in the sorts of things that might damage his glorious self too drastically, he died.”

Kai nodded enthusiastically. “Yes. And over time the mutated creatures only remembered that they should avoid the house without knowing why. Think about it. They’ve been underground ever since. Over five hundred years. Of course, now that the seal down there has been breached…”

I knew that look, too. “Kai…”

“Who’s to say there aren’t a few shallow spots, places they’d never thought to look because they’d forgotten there was anything above? And maybe one night they’ll find one. Dozens, perhaps hundreds of them boiling out of the ground…”

I fired an attention-getting bolt of electricity at him, making him yelp in surprise. “Kai Trevelyan, there are sufficient monstrous threats in Thedas without you inventing more.”

He gave me a wounded look. “Who’s inventing? They’re down there, right below our feet, right now. I was merely extrapolating.”

I pretended exasperation. “You are impossible.”

He grinned. “But you love me madly.”

“’Madly’ being the key word. I must be unhinged to be so slavishly devoted to you. Speaking of which, wouldn’t you rather discuss the fact that we have an entire fortnight ahead of us where we can escape to somewhere idyllic together?”

“Hm. Perhaps we can explore that idea of slavish devotion you brought up.”

I raised my wine glass to him in a small toast, accompanying it with a sultry look. “Perhaps.”

He smiled. “Well done. You’ve succeeded in distracting me.” He rose from his chaise. “Back in a moment.”

En route to the patio door, he stopped to give me a kiss and murmur, “Love you.” He paused, and added in a tone of dark menace, “But they’re still down there. Seething. In the dark. And now they know there’s something more…”

I smiled up at him. “Well we can’t have them seething. It’s unseemly. I’ll have the staff—under proper guard, of course—deliver a dozen fruit baskets to the entrance of their underground kingdom. That should keep them occupied for a time, and you know everyone likes fruit baskets.”

He feigned consternation. “Oh, yes, make them aware of fruit. Then we’ll never be rid of them.”

“You haven’t thought it through, amatus. They shall overindulge on the fruit and rich accompaniments which complement a proper fruit basket. Their subsequent gastric distress shall convince them to remain safely underground forevermore. Problem solved, and without any messy bloodshed.”

He laughed and went into the house. I watched him walk away appreciatively (and not only for prurient reasons). The universe seemed determined to ensure my life with Kai was fraught with adventure—or perhaps just _fraught_ —but considering what I’d gained, it was worth every moment.

**~~**

**Author's Note:**

> For the full story of what happened before and after this adventure, you're invited to read [_Hidden_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12133626).
> 
> Thank you for reading! As always, kudos and comments are appreciated. :)


End file.
